In Our Ending
by YJ-Lover
Summary: He woke up in his bed, in his room, and in the Bunker - but with a man he knew all too well. Unexpected time travel to five years into the future AU! Destiel. Implied established relationship.


Dean's inner alarm clock went off as he got his regular four hours of sleep. Groaning, he sluggishly blinked his eyes open until his vision focused on something black in front of him. Tufts of hair met his vision… Wait, what?

A deep, throaty voice hummed in contentment as Dean shifted. "Hello, Dean," the person from under him, _a guy_, rasped in a teasing manner, like what he said was an inside joke between the two of them. The stranger's hand brushed up against his thinly clothed chest and Dean yelped as he pushed himself away from the male. His back met air and his torso fell off the bed backwards with a harsh thump.

"Dean!" The voice said in a panicked tone.

Dean groaned, "Son of a bitch," he complained as he rolled over onto his stomach and rubbed his back. Was that Cas? Why was he in his bed? Dean glanced around and saw he was in his room in the Bunker but everything looked different.

There were still guns and weapons on the wall but some of them were gone and others, more foreign and new, were up on hooks. His desk had moved to the opposite side of the room on the corner farthest away from him and there were different and new things on it too. It had a weird looking metallic and blue compact disk in the middle of it instead of the typewriter and the lamp was gone. Picture frames littered the desk instead, at least from what Dean could see from his point of view from the floor, and was that… a filing cabinet next to the desk?

Dean got up on the hunches of his elbows, then shifted onto his hands and knees, and when he was upright he noticed the bed was placed in the corner of the room instead of the center and next to it on the right was the nightstand, which had the typewriter with a large amount of copy paper under it that looked like a manuscript. A new, very large, dresser was just a couple of feet away with ties and shirts, that weren't his, thrown hazardously atop it.

His mind was spinning. Why was everything different? What was going on? So many questions littered his head that he forgot about the fact that Castiel was right behind him. When he felt a hand touch his shoulder gently Dean freaked out and grabbed at Cas, fist raised, and ready to attack when he turned around.

Castiel's eyes widened in shock and he gasped at Dean's harsh grip, a look of fear on his face. Dean instantly felt a pang in his heart and lowered his arm slowly.

"Cas, what's going on?" he asked gently but still rabidly confused. This wasn't okay, _nothing_ was okay right now and he didn't like not knowing, he didn't like this uncertainty.

"I should be the one to ask you that, Dean," Castiel spoke in a concerned voice. Dean went stiff in that moment. This was not Cas, Dean theorized. Cas wouldn't speak like this. There was always an edge to every soldier's tone, an apprehension for the future, the sense that nothing was over. You're guard was never down. But this Cas… he was so relaxed, domestic.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, "Who are you?" he whispered.

Castiel tilted his head warily, a perplexed expression on his face. "What? Dean, c'mere," Cas gestured his hands towards himself, "Go to bed. I think you're sleep deprived or some-" Dean rushed at Cas and pinned his arms to the bed.

"Who are you?" Dean gritted through his teeth again.

He froze when Cas whimpered and bit his lip in an obscene fashion. With bated breath Dean watched as Cas leaned up as far as he could go and saw his dilated eyes as they bore into his.

"If you wanted to play you could have just asked, Dean," he said in a husky voice that made shivers run up Dean's spine for all the completely wrong reasons.

Dean let go of Castiel's wrists like the skin on skin contact burned him and got off of the other man and the bed completely. He pushed himself against the wall where the all weapons were on instinct and looked at Cas like he was some creature from another planet.

"What the hell is going on?!" Dean screamed as his heart beat raced. What was wrong with him? What was even happening?

Now, Cas looked really concerned. He repositioned himself on the bed and sat on his legs, his hands squeezing his knees. "Dean, what's wrong? Please tell me," he added pleadingly. His tone was that of a mother trying to comfort yet get information out of her child in a nurturing manner.

Dean scraped his scalp with his fingers in frustration. "Nothing's wrong with me! The question here is what the hell is wrong with you, Cas? Why are you acting this way?!"

A look of hurt washed up on Castiel's face before he quickly pushed it away. "What do you mean?" he asked calmly.

"You know what I mean!" Dean exploded, "Why are you acting like my wife or something?! And why is my room like this? What is up with the furniture move, man?" He was panting and looking around in a confused daze like a middle schooler in Algebra II.

Cas furrowed his eyebrows at him in disbelief. "Are you experiencing amnesia? We just got finished redecorating the room and agreeing on it for once and… w-we have _been_ married for nearly _three years_ now…" He choked out the last part, like Dean not remembering the fact that they were married made him feel so betrayed and sad that it would make him cry. It physically hurt Dean to hear and see that happen but he was so confused that he didn't stop his questioning tirade.

"Married…? You can't be serious. T-this isn't real. I'm sorry Cas but –" Dean's words were swallowed when he eyes landed on the pictures atop of the desk.

He walked over and surges of emotions crashed into him. The picture of himself and Mary was finally framed with finely designed wood and the word 'Mom' carved-out on the bottom in his crude handwriting. A photo that he sure as hell remembers did not happen of Sam, himself, Cas, Charlie, Garth, and several other hunters he's never seen before was framed in miss-matched popsicles sticks. Names of the people that were gone were hand written in an unfamiliar handwriting similar to calligraphy. It made Dean choke seeing how many names there were.

The third and final photo frame had multiple windows in it with multiple pictures of himself and Cas. One was of Cas laughing while he piggy backed on Dean. Another was of Dean laughing so hard he looked like he was about to cry as Cas looked at him confused as he nursed his beer. The other one was of Cas sleeping, the light hitting him just right. And the last one was of them kissing like they did it all time.

Dean was officially having a meltdown. He was shaking and he couldn't breathe and his chest hurt a lot. He felt Cas hug him from behind and he didn't protest.

"Dean, Dean," the black haired male soothed, "Calm down, it's going to be alright just breathe, please, you're scaring me." Dean's face felt slick and slowly he began to fall on his knees and Cas fell with him. "What do you remember last," Castiel asked as he squeezed him tighter.

"I- I remember," Dean stuttered as he noticed a ring on his right hand. "Um, I remember a, uh," flashbacks flashed through his mind. "A fight. You, me, and Sam were up against a witch or a demon or some other kind of ugly bastard I don't…" Dean snapped his head up, "Sam! Where's Sam!"

Castiel shushed him and outstretched his arms around Dean to hold his hands. "Sam's fine, Dean," he assured him, "He's safe and sound in his apartment somewhere in Sioux Falls. Probably at a farmer's market right now or something like that, right?" He made a forced out chuckle, trying to Dean feel better. "Keep going, tell me what you remember."

"Yeah… yeah, okay," Dean muttered. He closed his eyes to try to think more clearly, "Something hit me… a spell, powder? …and then everything went black and now…"

"You're here," Castiel finished for him. Dean nodded and rested his back against Castiel's chest shaking, hesitant. "Dean," he murmured, "What year was that."

"2014, why?"

Castiel sighed in a defeated yet eloquent sort of way. "Your coma… the witch was telling the truth… she sent your mind to the future…"

Dean shifted around so he was facing Cas, "What are you talking about?"

"That battle that you had moments ago," Castiel said with a distasteful face, "Actually sent you, or at least you mind, five years into the future. Dean, you're in the year 2019."

Dean gulped and closed his eyes before opening them again with a large exhale. "Um, alright. Not the strangest thing to happen to me I gotta admit," he chuckled cheerlessly. "So… a coma? How long was I out?"

Cas nibbled on his lip, "A week."

"A week?" Dean scoffed incredulously. "Man…" he let a pause drag the word out before opening his mouth again, his voice weak. "Does that mean I'm going to stay here that long?"

"I don't know, Dean," Castiel told him truthfully. "When you awoke at that time you didn't really tell me or Sam anything. All the information you said was that you were in a 'nice place.' Now that I think about it, you always did look rather pensive when you would bring it up every once in awhile, like a nice memory." Castiel smiled a bit, "Maybe that means you enjoyed it here."

"Yeah, maybe," Dean said unsure. Even though he would never admit it, this was all scaring him. Sam was off who knows where. He didn't know what was happening anymore with the world or what his life was like now. And the cherry on top of the cake, he was married to his best friend, talk about a chick flick.

"I'll tell you all you want to know," Castiel said to him softly like he read his mind. "Just try to be comfortable. If you want I can take Sam's old room, or you could take it if you don't want to sleep together anymore."

"I'll take it," Dean said monotonously.

Castiel nodded his head sadly, but didn't object, at least not aloud. His body language gave it away. Cas hugged himself tightly as he untangled himself from Dean and got up from the floor.

A heartbreaking smile was put on his face. "Get up, Dean," he said softly, "I need to make breakfast." When he didn't stand up immediately, Castiel sighed and slowly walked towards the kitchen, looking back at his husband only once by the door frame before leaving the room.

_Husband_.

Dean sat rigidly for a few more moments before following Cas to the kitchen. He decided this was going to be a long week. Sam better have silver and lamb's blood because he needed to get out of this dream. And the alternative for getting out at his end was not an option.

* * *

**(Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural!)**

**It has been **_**way**_** too long since I've posted a fanfic. So how'd you guys like it? I'm trying to improve my writing and I really liked this piece from the rest of my stories.**

**So two answers to questions you probably have:**

_Yes, Dean is thinking that this 2019!verse with him and Cas is because of a djinn, and no, this will not be a two-shot. Probably. I'm always open to positive feedback and maybe one will inspire me to make a part two of this. The wait for it will be long though fair warning. _

**Please review and leave ideas. Requests, expectations, and speculations are more than welcomed if you guys want a next chapter! Thanks everyone!**


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